


there’s a reason

by coweringbugs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), i don’t know what else to add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coweringbugs/pseuds/coweringbugs
Summary: mental hospital auhe was fine. he was sure of it. no matter how much weight he lost, or how he was zoned out and in his own world for days at a time. he was convinced he was normal.or;tommyinnit gets admitted to a mental hospital, and meets new friends while there.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122





	there’s a reason

**Author's Note:**

> hello guys! i’ve never published anything on here before and i am confused but i wanted 2 share this story. this is going 2 be v angsty but hopefully have a happy ending! in the meantime, here is the warnings for this chapter.
> 
> eating disorders  
> body image  
> self harm  
> slight mention of dissociation
> 
> also this is subject to editing in the future since i am very much struggling to find out how to use ao3 for anything other than reading

There was nothing wrong with him. He was sure of it.

Sure, maybe he obsessed over every little thing he ate. Maybe he burned more calories than he consumed. Maybe he was just skin and bones. But what did that have to do with anything? Tommy still functioned normally. He still went to school most of the time, and saw his friends, and argued with his parents like teenagers do. He still got berated whenever he walked through the front door, and was still thrown an occasional punch that he could still take despite his size.

This was the argument in his head as his mum angrily drove him through the muggy streets of London to the doctor's office. At any given moment, the boy was prepared to list these reasons to any doctor while desperately proving his point. Well, except maybe the last few. Tommy wasn't sure if he could handle a punch at the current time. He thought about how his dad would react based on what this doctor says while he watched the world slowly come back into view. His mum had already parked the car and was waiting for the boy left sitting inside to follow her into the large building in front of them.

The sign stuck out like a sore thumb, however Tommy stood up too fast too see much of anything, let alone what it said, before his vision got spotty and he promptly leaned into his mum for support. She brushed him off as he regained his balance and they kept walking towards the large glass doors. Tommy could tell it would be cold in there. He was always cold anyways, but god did he hate the doctor's office.

Always trying to prove something is wrong with him, never believing him as he states his side of the story. Since he had started eating less, he had been to countless doctors who had all said something along the lines of "take him to a specialist for a diagnosis". Tommy could only assume that this was the specialist they spoke of while he took a small Rubix cube out of his pocket and began to fidget. He glanced up and noticed his mum filling out paperwork and handing it back to the lady at the desk. The tall boy briefly ran a hand through his hair before freezing half way through, remembering the way it had fallen out last time he had done this.

Tommy hadn't exited his thoughts, even by the time he and his mom were ushered towards a waiting room filled uncomfortable chairs and strange toys. He finally focuses on to the writing on the walls, noting the ugly color and font. _Pediatric Mental Health Office. Oh, so his mum thought he was crazy. Lovel_ y, he thought, though he could barely hear himself thinking through the sound of the wobbling fan on the ceiling. It was so cold.

One of the symptoms of Tommy's ADHD had always been getting easily overwhelmed. His doctor told him it was so severe that it was near a diagnosis for autism, but nothing discussing it ever followed that. Tommy had noted how similar ADHD and autism were anyways once he got diagnosed.

His mom tapped his arm as he was called to the back, pulling him back to reality once and for all. Everything seemed too bright now. Sparkling clean tile floors that made a soft click as he took a step, despite the fact he was wearing shoes with flat soles. His electric blue eyes were bombarded with more light as he was led down a hallway and into an exam room that smelled awfully sterile. He registered his wrist hurting as his mom grabbed it, but couldn't remember why.

Sitting down on the exam table, he greeted the doctor who was sat waiting for them. She had fluffy white hair, and Tommy noted that it must be dyed considering the fact that she was obviously in her 20s. Her soft facial features were evened out by her sharp jaw, and her eyes were somewhere around a medium brown shade.

"Hello. Thomas, is it?" She greeted politely. Surprisingly, she had a strong American accent that slightly put the boy on edge. Filthy Americans.

"Just Tommy." The boy's response was terse, and he was hoping to make it obvious he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Okay. Well, I'm Dr. Puffy. I'm here to do a screening on you, which is basically asking a few questions. Does that sound good?" Her voice was sickly sweet, and it was apparent that she was faking it to appease Tommy.

"Don't talk to me like a 7 year old. And yes, it's fine." He offered an eye roll in her direction and noted her slightly shocked expression.

"Fair enough. Do you know what you're being screened for?" Dr. Puffy carried on as if nothing happened.

"Y'know what, lady? I reckon my mum doesn't have to be in here if we're gonna get all personal n' shit."

The mum in question quickly replied with a "Thomas, language!" and left the room.

Left alone with the fluffy haired lady, Tommy slipped his hand into his pocket and took out 4 bills that totaled to around £200. "Not sure how much they pay you, and it must be more than this, but let me carry on my way and I'll let you carry on yours."

"Jesus, Tommy, you can't bribe me into not examining you." He let out an exasperated sigh. "Back to the original question, do you know what we are screening for?"

Tommy furrowed his brows and raked through his memory. "Well, if it's similar to last time, it's either ADHD, which I already have, anorexia, which was inconclusive, and depression, which I already have. Anywhere near the mark?"

Dr. Puffy's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, you clearly thought this out. But yes, we are screening you again for any eating disorders. Your mom tells me that you frequently participate in behaviors that are associated with anorexia?"

"My mum is full of shit."

"If your mom is so full of shit than step on to the scale and prove you're an average weight?"

Silence.

"No."

"Well, let's start the questions then. One, have you ever struggled with body image or self confidence?"

"Yes." Tommy replied shortly. He wanted to be home. And god, his wrist ached so much.

"Have you ever gone on extreme diets or counted your calories?"

"Yes. Can I leave yet?"

"Tommy, it is very likely you do have anorexia. These are two of the major symptoms. We can do this the easy way, where you let me do the actual test. Or, we can have your mom pay extra money to send you to a psychiatrist or some sort of eating disorder specialist." Puffy explained, though for some reason there was a look of concern on her face.

With a sigh, Tommy said, "Fine. Easy way. Just do whatever the fuck you have to and let me go home."

"Depending on the results, you may not be able to go home. Without a test, considering you ended up diagnosed, it could be very severe."

Running his hands through his thinning hair, the lanky boy sat down. His mind was still foggy, despite thinking he was in the clear from whatever causes him to zone out for hours on end.

"Fine, yeah, do whatever. I just hate the doctor's and I want to fucking leave." His tone was exasperated and desperate.

"Okay, I will get on that." With that final sentence, Dr. Puffy quickly made her way out of the room, leaving Tommy sitting alone, uncertain, and scared.

-

Dr. Puffy made her way back in for the psychological evaluation, with a different doctor in tow. He introduced himself as Dr. Sam, which Tommy presumed was his first name. Being honest, he remembered absolutely none of the examination. He just remembers the two leaving the room, saying they would be back after discussing the results.

Very quickly they came back into the room, lead by his mother who came over and stood next to him with a wavering smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Smith. And Tommy. Our psychological evaluation does unfortunately conclude our suspicion that you do, in fact, have anorexia."

His ears were ringing. He was so confused. How? He had been careless. He should've lied on those goddamn tests. He glanced at the mirror on the wall of the small exam room he was in. He looked so small despite standing at 6'3. He was hunched over, his face gaunt, and his hair growing long. Tommy looked like a shell of the energetic child he portrayed on stream. He always knew something was wrong with him, but he didn't want it to be confirmed. Along with his other diagnoses, it was all too much. The boy refocused mid-conversation, at maybe the worst time.

"-and we think it would be a good idea to send him to inpatient treatment," Dr. Puffy explained.

"You bitches are sending me away? Fuck you." Tommy wasn't in control anymore. He didn't take his ADHD meds that morning, and this usually led to reactions like this, even at the smallest of things. He hated his adderall, but it slowed the buzzing in his mind and regulated him to a small degree. Now, the boy was an inferno of burning rage.

Despite how calmly he had announced his anger, he slammed open the door and stormed out of the exam room, practically fuming. He ran into the nearest bathroom he saw, and pulled out his phone to call his best friend.

He almost immediately picked up, since Tommy never calls his phone, preferring Discord.

"Hey, Toms, what's up?"

"Deo, holy shit, they're sending me away." Tommy's voice came out rushed and panicky, which filled the other with anxiety.

"Big man, what's going on?" Deo's voice was shaky.

"They're telling me I have some anorexia shit and they're sending me away. I don't know what to do," Tommy let out a wet laugh before continuing, resting his hand on his head. "They're sending me someplace far away with lunatics n' shit. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do!" He repeated this for emphasis on the fact that he was breaking down.

"Okay, let's calm down. I'm sure you could talk them out of it. And are you okay? That's a really serious condition, Toms." Deo himself was taking deep breaths, until he suddenly heard a loud knocking from Tommy's end.

"Tommy, get back out here!" the faint voice of his mother yelled.

"I-I'm sure I'll be fine. Sorry. Talk to you soon." A dial tone sounded as Tommy hung up and went to go look in the mirror. His face was red and his gaunt cheeks were tear-stained. He quickly splashed his face with cold water and walked over to the door, opening it to see his concerned mum.

"Oh my god, Toms. Please don't scare me like that." His mum had tears visibly welling in her eyes. "I thought you hurt yourself again." She grabbed his wrists and completely froze when she noticed how he had winced. A thought came back to Tommy. _I still don't know why my wrist is so sore_. Perhaps he had done something while zoned out. The boy did, in fact, have a history with self harm.

With his mom jostling the wounds on his wrist, a few small lines of red appeared on the fabric of his light blue hoodie, right by his wrist.

"Oh, Tommy." The two doctors he had been with earlier rushed up behind his mom and also stopped dead in their tracks at the sight.

"Jesus, another one." Dr. Puffy mumbled, noticing the quickly spreading red on his sweatshirt sleeves. She called out to a nurse, "Can we get a wheelchair? And contact the hospital, we might need an ambulance." Instantly, the nurses rushed around and made Tommy sit down in the wheelchair.

"I-I don't remember doing that!" Tommy choked out, just noticing the tears still in his own eyes. "I must have done that thing where I just zone out for hours. I never remember what I do, please believe me! Don't send me away!" He was pleading, which was definitely out of character for the boy.

Dr. Puffy kneeled in front of the wheelchair he was in. "Tommy, you have to go to the hospital at the very least. They will take care of you." She spoke soft and tread even lighter, her voice feeling like a gust of cool wind on a hot day to his ears. Despite this, Tommy unfocused and started faintly flapping his hand to keep him grounded.

"Stop treating me like a fucking child!" Ah, there he was. He abruptly stood up and yelled at everyone in front of him.

"Fine, no wheelchair. But there will be an ambulance waiting out front, kiddo." Dr. Puffy gently touched the boys shoulder and guided him forward to the front of the building, where several people in the waiting room looked as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Tommy had begun to zone out again, having wasted all of his energy in his little outburst, and having none left due to the fact he hadn't eaten in nearly 2 days. He vaguely remembered the sound of sirens, and being placed on to a stretcher before everything went black.

**Author's Note:**

> haha that was kind of heavy o_O that’s what happens when you project on to fictional characters through the power of exaggerating things that happened in real life. 
> 
> anyways that was the first chapter. it’s supposed to be a sort of background since the next one will obviously be set in a hospital
> 
> bye bye friends :] see u soon


End file.
